Lollipop
by DaDomz
Summary: As far as Harry Potter was concerned, lollipops are for children. So…why does it bother him so much when he catches Draco Malfoy eating one? Or worse, why does he seem to enjoy watching him sucking on the treat?(HPDM)


Lollipop Dadomz © 

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything Harry Potter-ish nor Marlboro and Lucky Strike… but I do own a box of lollies. Do you want some of it? Well… all you have to do is go down a wee bit and read and right after you read, you hit the button with the word "Review" and put a positive comment and… I'm still figuring out how to give you a lolly.

**Summary: **

As far as Harry Potter was concerned, lollipops are for children. So…why does it bother him so much when he catches Draco Malfoy eating one? Or worse, why does he seem to enjoy watching him sucking on the treat? 

**Warning: **

Smut alert! Slash Alert! Crazy Author Alert! Dark Harry Alert! Dumbass Draco Alert!  Sex! Swearing! R18...go figure. Hehe… Domz here and I wrote this by myself (Not really... Dada's going to recheck my grammar and all)!

**Author's notes and shout-outs: **

Emma (Or Martha…), you're always here on my shout-outs! Mech and Twig… hehe… oh, Dada's coming up with some sequel called sunglasses! Adios, I hope you enjoy this one-shot ficlet! (Okay, so maybe it's not so "One-shot".)

**H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H**

Lollipop

**H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H**

_Red. _

_White. _

_Red. _

_White. _

_In._

_Out. _

_In. _

_Out. _

_Appear. _

_Disappear. _

_Appear. _

_Disappear. _

Oh bloody hell.  

Who would have ever thought observing a person consume a lollipop could be so…kinky? 

If Draco Malfoy knew just how bothered Harry Potter was, he might as well have run around the Quidditch pitch naked, topped with cherries and whip cream rather than walk back and forth before aforementioned horny saviour of the world in a childish attempt to make the great Harry Potter whimper with jealousy over his new lolly.

The not yet released to public, state-of-the-art, collectible lolly was made of tangy strawberries and creamy vanilla certified to make anyone want it—or the one licking it to oblivion. "Strawnilla™ Vampops" soon to be found in any Wizarding store near you!

But I digress as that is not the point of the story…

While Draco devised plans of instigating envy, Harry was mesmerised with the ingesting action; a trace of red and white slowly vanishing into soft pink lips leaving a four-inch egg-white stick in its wake, dangling from Draco's lips like his own Marlboros (or Lucky Strikes) were prone to do. Within mere seconds, the red and white swirls reappear as the muscles on Draco's mouth clench. 

And for a moment, Harry's eyes were transfixed upon his sworn-enemy's lips, his own cigarette left forgotten as it rested on his bottom lip. If anyone could've seen the great Harry Potter, they might as well compare him with the statue of Eros in London. Inside his brain, he was actively participating in a debate with his inner self about the merits of putting on chapstick, rather Draco's habit of applying the stick of flavoured petroleum jelly on his lips for they were the cause of the sweet turmoil constrained within Harry for Draco's lips were one of a kind. 

Draco himself was one of a kind, a rather tempting masterpiece. 

Harry's thoughts were cut short by Draco's feminine hand as it shot up in the air, making busy hand gestures. In a way, it was very fetching…not that Harry cared or anything… it was just… appealing. 

Oh hell, that was a blatant lie, it was not just appealing but it was VERY alluring. 

"Blaisee Waisee!!!" Draco waved his hands albeit all too loudly, in a futile effort (or so he thought…) of making the great Harry Potter notice his presence. "See my lolly?"—He raised it high, giving Harry a little un-obvious glimpse (or so he thought, once again.) of his lolly—"Daddy bought this for me in Australia. Did you know Vampops were originally made in Australia? Yes, tasty little buggers, they're worth more than a new Firebolt, did you know?" 

Blaise gave him a weird look, which softened into enlightenment soon after he noticed the dark figure smoking a fag. Harry took in one last puff then pulled out another stick from the packet in his jeans-and what sinfully-tight Levis they were.

Blaise, on the other hand, and the rest of his tight ring-elite and upper-class group in Slytherin always knew there was something behind Draco's persistent attempts of making Harry Potter notice him.  Of course, the cute little Slytherin didn't even know his own reason, just that, seeing Potter so pissed off made him equally as hot as he was making Harry Potter (as of now). 

Of course, the Slytherins all knew that Draco Malfoy was a bleeding innocent boy when it came to emotions. Draco Malfoy couldn't exactly differentiate the meaning of sex and making love. To him, both words were unanimous; his innocence made him very ignorant of his feelings. Of course, it wasn't a very "truly, madly, deeply" kind of feeling but it sure was something you'd find meaningful compared to the one-night stand kind-of shag. 

Blaise sighed silently. Being innocent is being ignorant and the bottom line of being ignorant meant that you were a big dumbass. So, practically, what Blaise or any other person on the planet would know, Draco liked Harry and concurrently due to such fact he was pushing Draco to that direction.  

Blaise nudged Pansy lightly on the elbow. She turned carefully and, taking her cue from Blaise, smiled at Draco seductively, the latter sucking on the lolly like a little child. She rolled her eyes and skipped towards him, standing taller than he was on her bright purple stilettos. 

"My Draco, what a long… lollipop you have." She pulled the lollipop from his mouth and winked at Blaise, her back to Harry. "Mmmmm… this taste good, reminds me of strawberries and tasty whipped cream…" She stuck the sweet onto her mouth. "Fantastic... Kinda reminds me of the day you made love to me…"

Draco looked at her puzzled. "Made love??? WHAT THE HELL—" 

"Shh…" Pansy hissed. "My Draco," She said loudly, "This is a great tasting lolly!"  

"Err… you can keep it." Draco inched away carefully. "I still have a few more in my pocket, you can always…hehe… keep it." 

Pansy flung herself onto the lithe figure and whispered carefully. "Potter's watching." He rolled his eyes and inched away, once again. "Oh fuck gay rights." She hissed. "Wanna make Potter jealous? A lollipop ain't just gonna do… a little bogus intimacy would though, he's watching…" 

Harry threw the butt of his cigarette onto the lake, gently seething as the big bulldog blocked his view. As much as he hated admitting it, watching his enemy sucking on a red and white lolly like some little boy blue made him so… hot and bothered. His best friend Hermione was right, Draco looked more like a girl or a little boy, with his luminous golden strands curling by the base of his neck and his pouting lips sucking on THE sweet. 

Harry stopped and stared at the two figures as they started fighting, Pansy Parkinson finally gave up and huffed and left with Blaise, as Draco unwrapped the plain translucent package of the red and white state-of-the-art lolly. 

He breathed in the fresh air idly and then leaned against the trunk of the enormous (and thankfully not moving) willow tree. Once again, he was left observing Draco Malfoy.

The blond boy wasn't any taller than most girls were, coping with his semi-permanent 5"6 height and petite frame. 

'I wish I could take hold of that pretty face and those pretty lips of his and ram my co-' He shook his head and dispelled his thoughts as he whispered to himself, "Harry, you naughty, naughty little boy…" with a sinister smirk on his lips. 

Eyeing his obvious bulge down under, Harry inhaled deeply. It was time for action, Little Harry would certainly want some action… yes he would. 

He walked brusquely towards Malfoy, the blond boy failed to hide a smirk, misinterpreting Harry's hasty movements. Kicking pebbles by the ground, Harry slid his hand onto the waistband of his school trousers, thankfully concealed by his robes, to calm the excited little Harry.  

 And after an eternity (according to Little Harry), he reached the blond, who was now about to give his usual cocky retort. In one swift movement, he pulled Draco's lollipop and stuck it on his mouth, smirking at the frowning figure. 

"If you were so desperate,"—the blond rolled his eyes—"You could've just asked me if you wanted one, I have tons of it upstairs and I can certainly not believe you took my lollipop from my mouth when in fact you can just—ummpph!" 

The Lollipop lay on the grass, forgotten beside a round shaped rock. Harry's arm encircling the curve of the blonde's pale neck, ravishing twenty years out of the blonde's life (or lips, either-or). 

For short, Harry Potter wanted action so badly that he kissed his worst enemy in a public place. 

Draco had his mind on complete shutdown. After all, the brain was not made to accept rational thoughts whenever the subject called "sex" was put into action. Sex, kissing… what's the difference?

Like I said, it was not most likely for Draco to think: "No, he's my enemy" or "God, that's gross, has he like, brushed his teeth today?"  And he needn't think "Harry's a damn good kisser" or "Damn, I really am gay," since all his unspeakable thoughts, were etched clearly on his face. 

It took Draco Malfoy all of five minutes to stop, for breathing purposes. It was then, when oxygen filled his lungs and entered through his bloodstream, that he realised the mistake he made. 

And oh, what a beautiful mistake. 

Not that, he was about to admit that. 

"POTTER! You buffoon! You… you just smoked!" Draco exclaimed, scandalised. "You just can't go kissy-kissy on me when you were just smoking—a cigarette, that's very… that could damage my lungs, you arse!" 

"Admit it, Malfoy, you think it's sexy…" Harry grinned from ear to ear. "If you're ready, the First Year Hufflepuffs' next class starts in an hour, I'm sure you know—a Head Boy ought to know… maybe you'd like to accept my little invitation for a little… outdoor sex…" 

"Potter, you're way too frank!" Draco pointed out. "No one has ever offered that directly…" 

"Are you in or out?" Harry cocked an eyebrow. 

"You don't even have keys!" 

"I'm a Prefect, I have the keys…" Harry grinned. 

"That's unfair! I'm Head Boy! How come I don't have the keys to the Herbology greenhouse?" Draco scowled. "I should complain some time!"  

"Are you game?" Harry smirked at him. "Or are you chicken?" 

"Oh all right… count me in." 

H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H

"Did you say in an hour?" Draco asked rashly as he unzipped Harry's trousers in one expeditious action. Trying to ignore those little lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through his brain, as Harry nipped on his flesh by the curve of his neck. 

Harry nodded as he slowly started unbuttoning Draco's silken shirt and hastily pulling it aside. He sucked hard onto the pale flesh, allowing the blond to emit a sound of pure ecstasy. He grinned as he reached out to the little plant leaf. 

Who could've guessed, it was a magical plant, something that vaguely resembled an Aloe Vera, if you don't know what kind of plant that is, then I pity you, that's was in Eighth Grade Biology. 

"What are you doing?" Draco hissed, coming out more like a whine as he shot Harry a critical look. Harry cupped Draco's mouth and shot him a look as he broke the cylindrical shaped leaf with his thumb. 

"Sixth Year Herbology, Scandinavian Aloe." He whispered softly, rubbing the oozing sap on Draco's torso. "If you were paying attention instead of hurling baby Mandrakes towards Neville, then you would've known the secret uses of this plant… such as… a replacement lubricant…" 

Draco stared at him, eyes wide. "Professor Sprout actually said that in front of the class?" 

"No, she didn't." Harry smirked and toyed with the waistband of Draco's boxers. "I'd prefer that you wouldn't talk very much, I'll give you head, be a pretty boy, shut up and be submissive." 

"What the hell did you say about…Oh…wow…I didn't even think that was—bloody incredible—I mean, possible with…hey, not too hard!" Draco gripped onto the steels by the glass window. "You know Potter, if anyone crosses the Pitch, they're going to get a clear view of my arse." 

Harry James Potter was a selective listener; he chose whatever he wanted to hear and practically ignored those he didn't want to. Well, he certainly did not want to hear about the arse part… caught between the thrill of being caught and the thrill of seeing Draco's hide. 

Draco's virgin hide. 

Well… not for long. 

He pressed his palm and nudged the smooth contours of his arse, taking it all in and silently keeping an eye on passer-by's—partly making sure that no one would see them (As much as he wanted them to…) due to different circumstances. 

He stole a quick glance up on Draco, who looked like he was enjoying himself pretty well. The sign of pure submission, head rolled, back arched and mouth murmuring soft exclamations, just watching him like that made Harry want to come that very minute—but with much restraint, he didn't. 

Sensing the blonde's erratic breathing and small intakes of air through his mouth, he pulled away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He smirked at the blonde's _expression—priceless. 

He stood up and kicked off his trousers, giving Draco a look of satisfaction. Before the blond could ask him what he was up to, he pulled Draco in one swift movement and shoved him on the cold-tiled table and gave him a predatory look before climbing up on top of him, blocking his lithe frame. 

"Turn back." Harry commanded lightly, using his toes to pull the silk boxers from Draco' s knees. Draco complied acquiescently, turning around as Harry nipped his flesh intricately, emitting soft and unrecognisable words. "First time?" Harry murmured against his ear. 

The blond nodded, not wanting to say anything anymore. 

"You know I'm going to shove it up your arse, don't you?" Harry grinned as Draco gave him a horrified look. "You didn't? Such pity." 

"Is that even possible?" He asked silently, turning his head and allowing series of blond tresses to tumble onto his bony shoulder blades. 

"How else would two boys do it, dumbass… didn't think they'd just suck each other off, did you?" Harry grinned as Draco sported two pink blots on his pristine milky-white cheeks. Harry pressed his upturned palm onto Draco's back and allowed the blonde's torso to settle him onto the cold tile table. 

The blond hissed silently, kicking Harry on the shins purposefully. Harry nudged his legs apart and reached out for the plant leaf, coating three of his digits and holding the blonde's head for support. 

"Ready?" 

Draco didn't need to answer. 

As if he was given the change to. 

Draco hissed silently, turning his head and glaring at Harry. "You bloody moron." He seethed silently, before he elicited another groan. "That bloody hurts." 

Harry leered maniacally as he repeated the process in a dreadfully slow manner while prolonging it at the same time, making sure he wouldn't hit the prostate. "If I was a fucking nutter," Harry started, grunting at the same time, "I wouldn't have done this and I would've just shoved my Willy down your little bony arse." 

"That makes me feel so much better." Draco swallowed a moan as he closed his eyes, torn between the pleasures of pain and of sex. For some odd reason, his amusement barred all the lust he had. 

A few more minutes after, Harry withdrew and climbed on top as Draco turned around, his breathing irregular.  "I'm squished." Draco squeaked as he raised his head to breathe. "And very uncomfortable in this position." 

"Legs, shoulders." Harry indicated as he pushed his whole body a little bit upward. 

"Potter, I may be graceful but I am no human pretzel." Draco pointed out, rolling his eyes. "Just because you've got tons of muscles and you find it easy to move that way doesn't mean I can." 

"Do it!" Harry exclaimed as he pulled his leg towards his shoulder. "See?" 

"Uncomfortable." Draco whined. 

Harry ignored him and entered him hastily, ignoring the blank expression the blond acquired—ignoring everything around him. No Herbology room, No plants, No cold tile tables, No glass greenhouse, just him and Draco. 

And certainly, no lollipop. 

Poor lolly, as it was the basis of the story—hopefully, he would be featured someday in some other story…

Back on to Harry and Draco…

Harry rocked his hips in a rhythmic movement, muttering curses as he felt tons of pleasure engulfing his mind. Draco, on the other hand, continued on mewling as he finally got the joke Blaise once threw about jackhammers and pneumatic spanners and series to resident Slytherin cross-dressers. 

"Harder." Draco whispered, closing his eyes as a trickle of sweat rolled down his flushed-cheeks. 

"Got it." Harry groaned, increasing his pace and allowing the blond below him to continuously groan and moan and mewl. 

"Wonderful." 

"So bloody tight." 

"Wonderful." 

"Hot." 

"Wonderful."

"Beautiful."

"Wonderful." 

"So hot…" 

"Wonderful." 

"We should do this again sometime…" 

"We're not even done yet…" 

"I can go on forever…" 

"We've got only an hour…" 

D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H

Speaking of an hour…

"Welcome Hufflepuff and Gryffindor First Years. I am Hermione Granger, current Head Girl, and I am here to give you a little introduction on Herbology seeing as to Professor Sprout's running a little bit late from her meeting although, she will be here to guide you towards the greenhouse." 

Hermione Granger smiled at the following First Years before a certain redhead coughed behind her in a way that was done deliberately. 

"Oh and everyone, meet Ron Weasley." Hermione frowned as she cocked her head to examine a blurry silhouette inside the green house, across the Quidditch Pitch. She shook her head as she massaged her temples, thinking that she really did need glasses. 

"I'm a Gryffindor Seventh Year. I'm this year's Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Keeper so it's all too bad that I won't be able to see any of you play and I'm here to replace a certain irresponsible Head Boy, who, in my opinion, looks like a girl and acts like a bimbo and is most probably practising a cheering routine." Ron was satisfied with himself as a couple of Gryffindors snickered to his lame joke (or at him, which ever…). 

"Anyway, Herbology," Hermione frowned once again as she stared at the two silhouettes, dying to play Nancy Drew that very minute. "Is a study of magical plants, you will learn much about…" She heaved slowly as she found two shadows, doing exactly what two people would do at night. "About…bees and birds---I mean," She shook her head. "Different kinds of plants like…those little plants…" 

"Hermione," Ron frowned. "Are you all right?"   
  
  


"Ron, tell me… do you see anyone by the greenhouse?" Hermione asked, pointing towards the two figures. 

Ron, who was near-sighted, shook his head. "There's no one there Hermione, you know no one can gain access through the greenhouse at this time seeing as to the Seventh Year Gryffindors are at class." 

"You're right." Hermione shook her head. "Besides, it's only Harry who's got the key to the Herbology greenhouse and there is no way Harry's going to go in there. He told us that he's not going to use the key for anything even if you paid him a million galleons." 

"Poor bloke." Ron clucked his tongue. "He's probably been traumatised last year finding two guys inside, probably the biggest homophobe I've ever met…" 

Hermione shrugged. "Look, there's Professor Sprout!" 

D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H

"And now… I present to you… the glory of all classrooms… the best, most outdoor-friendly classroom in the whole world!" Professor Sprout boomed. "This is where you'll learn more about plants and herbs! The Herbology greenhouse!" She pushed the glass door wide open—enough to accommodate all the students plus two Seventh Years. 

And within the course of a minute, Professor Sprout dropped onto the floor a la-Neville. Ron stared at the two on the table and landed next to Professor Sprout. Hermione, on the other hand, stood in front of the two, gaping. 

"Harry? Malfoy?" She squeaked before she dramatically accompanied her boyfriend and Professor Sprout on the classroom's dirt floor.

D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H*D*H

I'm sure Hermione, though stuck in her dreams, would want to kick her own arse for not taking Divination… but the point is, Draco and Harry did work out on public…

Hermione's little prediction about bees and birds didn't go to waste, seeing as to the First Year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors did have their first clear lesson on bees and birds, albeit of some other variety but a lesson nonetheless—a little snippet they can tell their grandchildren… if they're not going to turn out just like Harry and Draco. 


End file.
